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Shane had been feeling off all day. And Ilya knew. He always seemed to know. But Shane had to be here. He remembered it seemed so long ago yet only yesterday that he won Rookie of the Year.
His feelings for Ilya then were so new and had changed so much since that time. Their relationship had changed so much since that night on the balcony. When Ilya couldn’t help but steal a kiss under a moonlight while they were both in tuxedos in public.
Now, Shane could not believe that that same Ilya Rozanov, that fucking baby who hid on the rooftop all night making Shane feel bad for winning an award that he completely fucking deserved, would be his boyfriend one day.
Said boyfriend who was now currently scanning Shane with those ice blue eyes from head to toe seated next to him at the table of other hockey superstars.
“Are you ok?” Ilya asked for the seventh time that night.
“Jesus Christ, I’m fine.”
“You’re sweating,”
“Fuck off. Sure, it’s a little hot, but I’m fine.”
If Shane was being honest, he did not feel 100% ok. He had been feeling nauseous ever since lunch. And the shots he just took with the other old fucks was not helping either. Ilya didn’t need to know that though. Shane could take care of himself.
His stomach decided to release a very telltale gurgle at that moment. He had eaten like crap tonight. He’s not sure what got into him, but it had just been so long since he let loose.
There had been crab cakes, meatballs, sandwiches, corn salsa, champagne, chocolate mousse, and cheesecake.
And Shane had kind of eaten one of everything. Ilya had eaten too, but not as much as Shane. Which was crazy because Ilya usually went ham on these kinds of events. But it was as if he was keeping checks on himself. He hadn’t even been drinking. Just sticking to one can of coke the entire night. And stuck to Shane like a fucking lost puppy. Like he was Shane’s personal bodyguard and designated driver.
Shane stifled a burp behind his fist. Shane did not burp publicly. That had been happening more since lunch.
He remembered he had been home with Ilya. He had taken out some ham and was just gonna make some sandwiches for himself.
Ilya had watched him with a raised eyebrow. “That’s gonna mess with your stomach.”
“What?” Shane scowled at him. “I’m gonna eat like crap anyway tonight. I just need something easy to eat before.”
“How long has that ham been in the fridge? I bought it almost a week ago.”
“Oh my God! It’s fine Ilya.”
It had not been fine. Shane had been stifling burps that tasted like ham all afternoon. And bubbles moving through his guts that made him wish he had listened to Ilya earlier.
He got up from the table to Ilya’s dismay to give his congratulations to the Rookie of the Year. Jonas Crumm was his name.
Crumm reminded Shane of himself in small ways. Best hockey player of his league and loved to brag about it. Shane made his way over to the boy with wavy brown hair and freckles.
“Congratulations, kid,” Shane patted him on the shoulder. Crumm looked up to see his hockey role model Shane Hollander standing in front of him. His eyes widened and his mouth was agape.
“Thank you Mr. Hollander, I appreciate it so much. I’m just really glad I was able to beat Garringer this year. That bastard’s been fucking with me all season.”
“Sorry,” Crumm added quickly, seeming to realize who he was talking to.
Shane laughed and shook his head. “It’s all good. I remember that feeling well.”
Another rivalry? He thought. There always was. Two rookies that the press always seemed to focus on every year. He doubted Crumm was gay and was secretly fucking Garringer, but you never knew. Shane smiled despite himself.
The smile quickly disappeared as he felt something turn in his stomach. It started gurgling and he could feel a steady and fast build up of….
Diarrhea, he realized suddenly, waiting to come out.
“Uh, Mr. Hollander, are you ok?” He could hear Crumm’s voice distantly.
“What? Uh…yeah I’m fine,” Shane replied, even though he immediately clenched his butt cheeks for dear life. He needed to go.
Now.
“Sorry, um, would you excuse me.” he quickly stammered to Crumm, leaving the poor kid standing there confused. Not how he wanted his conversation with the Rookie of the Year to go, considering Shane was probably Crumm’s idol who just brushed him off cause he had to shit.
But Shane had to go. He was speed-walking to the restroom sign, trying not to look so desperate, but his cheeks were clenched the whole time. Shane was getting nervous. He doubted it, but he hoped no one was in the bathroom at the moment. Even one person in the room would be bad enough, because EVERYONE KNEW HIM HERE.
He cursed being famous again, because if someone recognized Shane fucking Hollander as he was having explosive diarrhea (which, Shane was not a quiet pooper. Especially when he had diarrhea. It was like gunshots).
He had no choice though. Unless he wanted to spill his load all over the floor in the middle of the party.
Finally, he made it to the men’s restroom. He pushed open the door. And…
Oh God.
It was packed and…
All the stalls were full.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, sweating like a sprinkler now. He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
A urinal opened up just then. But that was not what Shane needed right now! He felt so awkward just standing there, waiting. People are gonna know!
Shane saw it was Jamal Decker leaving the urinal, a forwarder for Toronto, who knew Shane well.
Fuck. Shane panicked and turned around and left the men’s restroom.
He would just have to hold it.
He couldn’t really think straight. The only thought running through his head was I need to shit, I need to shit, I need to shit.
And one other thought strangely.
I need to find Ilya.
Shane was not sure what Ilya was gonna do about it, but he just needed to be near him right now, there was no way to explain it.
Maybe they could call a cab and go home early. Shane didn’t know if he could wait that long though. He felt so full on top of everything. He just wanted to be empty.
He found Ilya leaning against the bar, chatting with a few players. Shane sidled up to him, straightened his suit jacket, and tried to look normal.
When Ilya turned his head, his smile dropped. He could tell right away something was wrong.
“Malysh, are you ok?” he asked for the eighth time that night, and this time Shane answered honestly.
“No, not really,” he whispered only to Ilya.
“What’s wrong?” Ilya's voice lowered as he stood closer to Shane.
“I’m gonna…” Shane couldn’t get himself to say it, even if it was true. “I need to use the bathroom but all the stalls are full.”
He had to poop so bad he was starting to feel nauseous.
Ilya seemed to immediately understand. He set down his coke. “Ok. Shane, you’re gonna have to go back in there and wait for one to open.”
“I can’t do it Ilya, people are gonna know.”
“Shane,” Ilya was suddenly strict. “I’m not joking around.”
“I know, I just…I don’t know what to do. Can you call an uber to take us home?”
Ilya sighed and rolled his eyes. “Shane, you’re not gonna be able to hold it that long.”
“What do you expect me to do?!” Shane whisper-shouted. “Everyone knows me. They’re gonna recognize me as the detonation shitter the next time they see me.”
Ilya, fuck him, started laughing. “Oh, they can’t know Shane Hollander shits like a normal human?”
“Fuck you, just call someone!” Shane was about ready to punch him. He was still clenching like his life depended on it. It felt like it was going to slip out of him at any second, and his stomach hurt like a bitch.
Ilya groaned dramatically and then… “No.”
Shane was so flabbergasted he almost let go of all his shit right there.
“I told you your stomach would hurt earlier today. But you didn’t listen. So go to the restroom like a big boy.” He was smirking.
“Fuck y-” he started, but immediately froze as his breath hitched, feeling something come up.
The other way.
He was shivering and shaking, pure anxiety rolling off of him as he thought what might gush out of him.
“I think I might throw up,” Shane all of sudden whispered weakly.
All the teasing left Ilya’s eyes immediately and he grabbed Shane’s hand as he tore away from the others.
But it was too late, and Ilya knew. Shane was holding his hand over his mouth as a burp interrupted his breath and something wet and chunky came up in his hand.
Ilya directed Shane’s head to a small trash can right next to the bar and Shane let go of everything.
His whole body shuddering, he gave into the horrid feeling and painfully puked in the trash can.
He distantly heard shocked gasps and exclamations from the people around him, but Shane was too busy gagging through another painful bout of vomit.
In the middle of puking, the pressure in his belly dropped and a small drip of diarrhea landed into his black suit pants. He clenched his hole tight so no more would leak out.
He could feel Ilya’s body shielding him from the crowd. “Shane, we need to get you to the bathroom.”
Shane shakily nodded because distantly he realized he’d just puked in public. And he could tell there was more.
He swallowed multiple times to keep it at bay.
“Everyone get the fuck out of our way!” Ilya shouted to the crowd and dragged Shane holding the trash can to his face through the shocked, parted, sputtering crowd.
They made it to the men’s restroom and thankfully one of the stalls was open. Shane nearly stumbled toward the toilet.
“Malysh,” he heard Ilya’s voice as he locked both of them in the stall “Sit on the toilet and hold the trash can, ok?”
He undid Shane’s pants as quickly as he could and sat Shane on the toilet. Immediately, he started to let out the most explosive farts and slop started pouring out of him. He puked weakly in the trash can at the same time.
The diarrhea was so much more embarrassing than the puke. If he had just puked in public, maybe he could show his face again, but not after this.
And it just kept coming out after each fart. Shane whimpered. This could not be happening.
He looked at Ilya who was kneeling before him with concerned eyes.
He felt tears pour down his cheeks as he continued to shake and shudder through nauseating breaths. He was so miserable.
To make matters worse, the men’s restroom was full. He could hear voices through the stall door.
“Holy shit!”
“Oh my god, that’s disgusting.”
Someone even started laughing.
Shane wanted to die.
He saw the concerned look on Ilya’s face slowly morph into the angriest expression he’d ever seen on him before. His jaw and fists clenched, his eyes on fire, he couldn’t even look directly at Shane.
The next thing he knew, Ilya had shot up and left the stall. Shane panicked because where was Ilya going?? Shane needed him. And more importantly, what was Ilya about to do?
He heard Ilya’s voice shout at the top of his lungs “Everyone get the fuck out!”
And then everything was dead quiet. Except for Shane sitting there pathetically, weak toots leaving his fluttering hole as more mess dripped out of him.
Surprisingly, Shane heard footsteps, zippers being pulled up and the door opening and closing as men filed out.
“Roz, what the hell?” Shane heard another man speak. “Other people have to piss and shit too. You can’t just kick everyone out.”
“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t leave in 30 seconds.”
“Dude, mind your own business, it’s not my fault he’s wasted”
It was quiet for a second. Then Shane heard Ilya’s voice sounding…sick?
“Oh God, I think I’m gonna throw up.” He heard Ilya gagging. Then footsteps hurriedly leaving the bathroom and the door closing.
Then it was quiet. Ilya reappeared in the stall looking not sick at all, locked the door, and sat down on the floor in front of Shane.
Shane sniffled. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Men are assholes,” Ilya said with a scowl.
The nausea came back and Shane burped suddenly and let go of another stream of puke. He was a mess.
And so, so, embarrassed. Not to mention, the smell was getting to him. All of his dinner sitting at the bottom of the trash can in a half-digested state, and the poop beneath smelling like straight horse manure.
It caused Shane to sob and vomit weakly again in the trash can. How could Ilya still stand to be around him like this?
As if knowing what he was thinking, Ilya ran his hands up and down Shane’s thighs.
“Shhhh, you’re ok. You’re ok.”
Shane started to whimper, loose watery diarrhea and wet farts coming out of him, his stomach grumbling loudly.
Ilya stood up and put his arms around Shane. It was so cramped in this stall, but it was everything having Ilya here with him.
Ilya flushed the toilet for him.
“...I’m not done,” Shane said regrettably.
“I know. But you’ll probably overfill it if we don’t flush it at least once.” He could feel Ilya’s smirk. Ilya started gently rubbing Shane’s back through Shane’s shivering and cold sweats.
They sat like that for a while, Shane being nothing but a puke and diarrhea machine every 30 seconds, Ilya just holding him.
“I think I’m empty,” Shane finally said, because he didn’t know how he could produce so much in one sitting.
Ilya sat back on the dirty bathroom floor “You ate a lot,” he stated.
“Sorry, you must be…uncomfortable sitting like that.”
Ilya laughed lightly “Shane, look at yourself. I have easy job.”
“I probably smell really bad too.”
“No,” Ilya said sarcastically. “You smell like roses and lilies.”
Shane huffed, that caused him to burp while simultaneously letting out a fart.
“Ooh,” Ilya cooed. “A burp AND a toot. You’re talented, Hollander.”
“Fuck you,” Shane huffed, but he was smiling. A wave of nausea hit him and his stomach cramped painfully and his smile disappeared.
“Will you finally listen to me from now on?”
“Yes, sir,” Shane said weakly.
Ilya smiled and kissed him on the lips
“Oh god, Ilya that’s gross, I just threw up.”
Ilya hummed. “You are still irresistible. Just like you were that night years ago. Who knew I’d one day have you all to myself years later in a filthy bathroom toilet covered in puke and shit.”
“You’re so romantic sometimes.”
“You are too. I could not imagine this night ending better.”
Shane shook his head, smiling. He forgot how embarrassed and mortified he should be feeling, but here with Ilya he just felt…safe, loved.
“Can I…” Shane croaked weakly.
“Yes, Shane?” Ilya was back to rubbing his thighs.
“Can we leave?”
“Of course,” Ilya nodded. “I should’ve called that cab, I’m sorry.”
“No,” Shane stopped him by grabbing his hand. “I need…” he was embarrassed to say it, but after everything, he really shouldn’t be. “I need my parents,” he mumbled.
Ilya seemed to understand right away. “Ok. I call your mom. Your dad and her will pick us up and go home.”
“Ok,” Shane said weakly. He watched as Ilya took out his phone from his back pocket and found Yuna’s contact. “Thank you,” he added.
Ilya responded by gazing at Shane lovingly and rubbing his calf.
Shane heard the phone dial as Ilya put it up to his ear.
“Mrs. Hollander? Yes…sorry to call you so late…Shane is ok, he…”
As if to disprove his point, Shane retched a measly amount into the already full trash can.
“Actually he…is not well. He is sick in the bathroom and we need you to come pick us up…I think he ate some bad food earlier, had no idea.” Ilya smirked at Shane. He could hear his mother’s worried tone through the phone. And then Ilya’s “Ok…we’ll meet you outside. Thank you…thank you a lot.”
Ilya hung up and looked at Shane sympathetically. “She said they’re on their way.”
“Thank you.” A few tears had slipped down his cheeks and Ilya caught them with his thumbs immediately.
“We’re going home, Shane don’t worry. Can you push one more time for me to make sure you’ve got everything out?”
Shane stomach flipped. “Ilya…” he grumbled.
“You can’t possibly be embarrassed after the entire hockey league heard you shit up a storm in here.”
“God, please don’t remind me, this is a nightmare.”
“Come on, Shane, one more push for me.”
Shane sighed and eventually started to push. One more airy fart came out, making an echo in the toilet bowl. Then a few dribbles of mushy poop. Not as much as before when Shane felt like he was pissing out of his asshole a long, watery fountain.
Now it was just down to little squirts and sharts. And a few spits of saliva into the trash can.
Shane shifted his feet towards each other, somehow trying to hide. This felt so wrong to do in front of Ilya. So intimate somehow.
If Shane was being really honest, he kind of sort of liked this feeling. So vulnerable for Ilya. Being so good for Ilya.
But he shoved that thought away. There was no way Ilya actually liked sitting here with him like this.
Then Ilya did something Shane didn’t expect. He waded the toilet paper in his hand. “Bend over, Malysh,” he said and started wiping his ass.
“Ah-“ Shane was shocked and panicked. “Ilya, you don’t have to-“
“Is ok. I don’t mind.” He said it like he was just making a tuna melt and he could just make another for Shane.
Once Ilya was finished wiping him, he got another swath of toilet paper and left the stall. Shane heard the sink running and Ilya came back with two pieces of damp toilet paper, one in each hand.
He took one and gently wiped Shane’s mouth with it. With the other, he told Shane to lean forward again. “I tried to make the water warm,” Ilya said and started “I don’t understand why you Canadians have such flimsy toilet paper”
Shane didn’t argue as he felt the warm, damp paper over his hole. Ilya was being so gentle. Shane could feel his eyes watering as he pressed against Ilya’s chest.
When he was done, Ilya carefully lifted Shane up by his armpits. He started to lift his pants up for him but saw the little diarrhea stain in his underwear. He had Shane step out of those and threw them in the garbage. He then pulled up his pants for him without the underwear because thankfully none had leaked onto the actual pants.
Then Ilya picked him up. Like a fucking child. Shane’s legs wrapped around Ilya’s waist and his head resting on his shoulder with his arms around his neck.
“Put me dowwwwwwwn,” Shane grumbled into him.
“No. You are too weak,” Ilya shot back.
Ilya opened the restroom door and the entire party watched golden boy Shane fucking Hollander get carried out like a fucking baby in Ilya’s arms.
He would never live this night down.
5 minutes later and his parents’ car pulled up. Ilya opened the side door and led Shane on shaky legs to the seat.
“Hi Sweetheart,” he heard his mother’s voice.
“I’ve got some water for you Shane, you’re probably very dehydrated,” he heard his father’s voice.
Ilya took the water and gave it to Shane. After everything he went through, water was probably a very good idea.
“Thank you guys,” Shane said weakly. “And…thank you for picking us up.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” his dad replied.
“We were just very worried about you,” his mom said.
“What exactly happened?” his father asked.
“Um…” Shane started, but felt too embarrassed to recount the whole thing. “I, uh…”
Ilya reached for his hand, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles, letting Shane know that he was safe. Here with his family. Here with Ilya.
“I…threw up. And then I…”
“He shit real bad.”
“Ilya, shut up.”
“I’m so sorry Sweetheart,” his mom replied. “I had no clue you were that sick.”
“Can we get you anything from home?” his dad asked. “Pepto Bismal, some gatorade?”
His mom agreed. “Yeah, I think I might have some, we can stop really quick at home and then get you and Ilya back to your place.”
“Ok,” Shane replied. But he was slowly drifting off to sleep on Ilya’s shoulder.
The next time Shane woke up, he was in bed. His and Ilya’s bed. Ilya was lying right beside him, tracing lines up and down his back.
“Hey,” Ilya said gently. “Is ok. Go back to sleep, you’re safe.”
Shane couldn’t help but get one thing off his chest “Ilya?”
“Yes, Shane?”
“I…I don’t know what I’d do without you. You being there with me means…everything. You mean everything to me.”
Ilya bent down to kiss his forehead.
“I still don’t understand how you can stand to be around me after that.”
Ilya sighed thoughtfully. “To be honest Shane, I enjoyed getting to take care of you like that. I always love taking care of you. I just felt…protective? Possessive? I don’t know, but there was something about you being so vulnerable and you trusting me that made me feel…special. In a way.”
Shane gazed up at Ilya. He knew he was always gonna feel safe as long as he had Ilya. As long as they both lived.